#just . i'm still so in love with you and it HURTS but i can't stop bc ur all i know

[freyaphoria]

Ateez Reactions: When You Use Safeword (Hyung Line)

tw: ugh i am not good at writing tw but it is smut lol, choking, slapping, degrading, I AM SHY OKAY bj, ahem cockwarming, using safeword obv, ahem bye

Hongjoong

You had been sitting between his legs, pleasuring him, for about 15 minutes. Your mind was starting to get blurry and you would have collapsed on the ground if he hadn't held you by your hair and guided you. It all started to become too much. You weren't yourself because he tease you and delayed you before. Suddenly he took his free hand to your throat and started squeezing it. He was already big enough that blocking all your airways; He made it twice as bad by strangling you. "You like it when I use you like a slut, don't you? Aww so cute, you can't even talk" Suddenly you realized you couldn't take it anymore and hit his thigh three times. With lightning speed, Hongjoong removed his hand from your neck and hair and carefully removed himself from your mouth. "Love, was it too much?" He observed you carefully. You were trying to breathe. "Joong, I am so sorr-" He pulled you close and stroked your hair. "Don't. Don't apologize. I'm really sorry I didn't notice before." You regained your breath. "Wait, let me get you water" You grabbed him by the arm. "Just stay with me."

Seonghwa

"Open wider." He commanded in a stern tone. Your legs were shaking so much now that you couldn't even tell if you had opened them wider or not. "I said. Open. Wider." Now you were sobbing. "I... I don't..." He hit your thigh hard. "You don't what doll?" You felt his voice vibrating inside you. You tried to grab his hair and pull his head away from you, but he grabbed both of your hands and pinned them next to your hips. "Stop... I can't- anymore" He couldn't hear you or didn't want to hear you. "Hwa!" He was lost between your legs. "Shut up. I swear if you try to close your legs again" You panicked. "Hwa! stars!" Still between your legs, he looked up at you to see if he heard correctly. The look of discomfort on your face was a sign that he heard correctly. He instantly pulled away from your legs. "Doll? Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?" You nod your head and released your hands from his grasp, covering your face. "I'm sorry. Don't hide from me." He took your hands away from your face. "I think I went too far." He instantly got out of bed and went towards the bathroom. You closed your eyes for a moment to regain your composure. You woke up when he grabbed your legs and waist and carried you to the bathroom to clean you.

Yunho

You turned your head back and looked at the computer. You see there are 13 minutes left in the match. You didn't know if you could last 13 more minutes. "Hm, you want to watch? I can turn you around." He pull out of you, picked you up and placed you back on his lap. With this move, you were now on the edge. You couldn't come without his permission and it was starting to hurt. "Yunho I can't stand it anymore." "Yes you can and you will." He replied to you with his eyes still on the screen. When he put his hands on your belly and pressed it, you were really at the limit. Your walls were squeezing him like crazy. "If you keep squeezing me , you can't come for the next 20 minutes." If Yunho threatens you, he will definitely do it. You couldn't stand another 20 minutes. "Yunho, red!" He looked at you instantly. "Angel? You want me to pull out of you?" You shook your head. "What do you want angel? Use your words please." You were relieved when you had his attention. "Let me come. It hurts." He stood up from his gaming chair while he was still inside you. He put you to bed. "Okay, darling. I'll take care of you."

Yeosang

He hit you hard on the cheek. You were in such a position that your leg was numb. "Are you going to continue being a stupid attention seeking bitch again or have you learned your lesson?" You could only hum. You couldn't put the words together. "Or should I watch my best friend fuck you like a cheap whore? What do you think, would you like it?" He was fucking you with incredible speed. What you did was just ask Wooyoung questions about the movie he watched. You didn't think this might trigger Yeosang. "Answer me when I talk to you!" It was maybe the 30th time he slapped you. The insults he said had become very serious indeed. Normally your sexual relationship was like this, but today you were so tired and everything was breaking you. Tears began to flow from your eyes. "Are you going to cry now?" He said sassily. You came for a while but everything was so intense that only Yeosang noticed. When it started to build up again, you tried to push him. This strange movement of yours caught his attention and he slowed down a bit. “Slut, what is your color?” You didn't want it to end completely. You just didn't want him to humiliate you that much. "Yellow." He slowed down his pace inside you. He was barely moving. "Do you want to take a break?" You shook your head. "No, just slow down a little." He kissed your head. "Sorry love. I will be more gentle now."

I wrote smut for the first time is it okay? Did I write correctly lol? Pls let me know if I wrote something stupid

[munsooooon]

Steve hates very much to be called "Steven" not even as a joke, he has not talked about it with anyone but implicitly everyone senses it in some way or another and therefore they do not call him that way, it is always Steve or Harrington or some nickname. That's because when his parents called him that it was because they were incredibly angry or drunk and therefore punished him in horrible ways, when they called him Steven he usually ended up getting beaten up. When they called him Steven in public it was enough to make him freeze and make him shiver, eventually he would be silent and terrified for the rest of the evening.

Now being older if someone calls him Steven, he immediately assumes they are fighting with him or that he did something wrong and depending on the situation or the person he will react with sadness or anger, for example, when Tommy called him Steven, it ended in a awful fist fight. It really makes him feel very bad, in recent years sadness is what he felt the most when he hears his name, because it hurts him too much to disappoint the people he loves.

Eddie doesn't know it, but he doesn't call him Steven either, it's always a nickname or Stevie, or Steve or even Harrington. Until one night, when they were in Steve's room kissing fiercely and passionately, Steve was under him doing whatever it took to feel Eddie rubbing his skin, between gasps and accelerated breaths, every little movement Eddie made or every little touch Steve felt, he reacted effusively with his whole body shuddering, he was and felt hypersensitive, he couldn't keep still.

"Steven" Eddie whispered with softness and a beautiful smile, Steve looked at him surprised. "Stay still, I need to take your clothes off, love"

Steve loved that. It was the first time someone pronounced his name with such love. He stood for a few seconds, processing what was happening. He began to shake in anticipation of what Eddie might give him. His brain was short-circuited, and all he could think of was Eddie calling him "Steven" with that authority and that beautiful softness that only he had. He felt loved.

"Are you okay? Do you want us to stop?"

Steve took a few seconds to appreciate him, ran his face gently, because the words wouldn't come out even though they were in his throat. He was always silent when he shouldn't be but he couldn't help it.

Eddie kissed the hand that was on his face, not intending to go any further, and Steve melted once again, he wanted to speak and express loudly the pleasure the other boy was making him feel but he couldn't. Instead, he took Eddie's hand and directed it to his pants to make him feel what he had provoked, to make him understand that he didn't want to stop.

"No, I don't want to stop" Steve said as he sat on Eddie's lap. "Call me Steven again, just you, just you Eddie, call me love, baby, tell me I'm your princess and never stop"

Steve was incredibly loud that night, moving his hips against Eddie's lap, trying to fuck himself harder, deeper. He spoke his name softly and lovingly, until he began to cry, begged for more as tears flooded his face. Eddie held him tight with his arms to keep him right where he wanted him but also to keep him safe to hold him as he released a weight he seemed to be carrying for years.

Eddie couldn't utter a word, it was unbelievable. Eddie was always loud and Steve was quieter, but in the dark, in the security of their love, Steve could be whatever he wanted and could act however he wanted, so he was being loud as he wished because in Eddie's arms no one could punish him.

"You're such a good boy, don't you?" Eddie says softly.

"Yeah?" Steve asks as he chases Eddie, he moans loudly as Eddie once again hits that place on his body, his mouth stays open as he moves on Eddie, soft sounds keep coming out of his mouth, he closes his eyes, because he can feel Eddie all over his body, even though he moves slowly.

"Yeah. You're so sweet, my baby boy, I can't even explain how much I love you, princess"

Steve smiles with his eyes closed. He looked precious, his cheeks were flushed, his lips red, and somehow the tears made him incredibly beautiful.

....

Steve still hates being called that, he finally confessed it to Eddie but also gave him permission to call him that on special occasions. Plus, he told him that he would love to tell his parents what he does with the traumas they caused him. Because now every time he's called Steven it's because he's loved, because he's revered and because he's being fucked incredibly well.

Steve get his name back, Steven belonged to him and Eddie.

[cute-sucker]

note: im begging for requests for this au!!! i'm sobbing, idk what character it is <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

jonbee taking care of you during an apocalypse and you're in near tears begging him to kiss you. it happens all the time, the casual way that he's dominant over you. if it's the way that he's so much taller, the way his rough hands feel on yours. he always drops a kiss on your forehead before serving you french toast.

you love the normality of it all. the way he's humming the song on the radio, and you're bobbing your head to it. ivy is growing in the trailer park, and the shorts you have on have dirt smudges all over it when the two of you were running.

yet john b is giving you everything he can to serve you a normal lifestyle. he's trying everything to make you feel better, tucking back your hair, and coaxing you to eat. he's even found an old apron that has, 'kiss the chef,' on it, and suddenly your tearing up, holding up your brittle knife and fork.

hot tears drip down your face, as you sniffle quietly nudging at the food on your plate. almost immediately john b turns around, eyes full of concern.

"hey? hey, what's wrong?" he murmers, dropping down to your level. his hat is on backwards, and you fight the urge to turn it the other way. "don't cry pup," he cooes, grazing your wet cheeks, and you fight the urge of jumping into his arms, or asking to sit on his lap. after all, the two of you are platonic anyways. that's clear to tell.

you choke on your sob, "iono, just feel this pressure on my chest. i really need to be close to someone." even as you say this, your eyes are wide ready to be rejected, but john be is always there for you, as his hands snake up your sides, and sits you down on his lap.

"alright now. let's eat something now. maybe that'll make the ache go away."

you nodd at his soft words. he's right, he's always right. the two of you could barley find normal food now, always preservatives, or food that makes you hurt. you like it when he embraces you like this, his big arms around your waist, as you feel like a kid swinging your legs. and yet here you are crying the one day that there is good food.

suddenly you feel worse. the world is ending, and you'll be dead soon, and john be will never be with you, and you will have never kissed anyone. you'll never be a librarian in a niche town with a husband who would kiss you off your feet. no, you will have never kissed someone! what a tragedy to love someone so deeply yet never touch their soothing lips. maybe john b's lips on yours would fix everything.

you feel so stupid.

finally, john b puts the fork down, warm breath on your neck, and he sets you off his lap to look you in the eye.

"i need you to tell me what's wrong, and so i can fix it." he whispers to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. you shake your head, feeling the pounding feeling in your chest, as if you were going to vomit but your stomach was empty.

john b sighs, his voice firm now, "this won't go away. show me where it hurts. do you feel sick?" he murmurs to you, giving you his hand to guide, and you tentivally take it to place it on your heart.

"here," you croak, "it hurts here."

he looks surprised, yet his eyes are warm as he speaks in his soothing tone, his words practically melting in your mouth, "why does it hurt pup?"

"i need you to kiss me," you blurt out, and let go of his hand, "so it can stop."

he tilts his head almost amused, "yea? you need me to kiss you, so your heart can stop hurting."

you hate the way he's teasing you, a soft lint in his tone, his large hands still settling on you as he talks to you. he's so gentle with you it burns your skin, it burns everything inside of you.

"i can't take it. i can't take the fact that i've never kissed someone," and then you pause, your voice a whimper, "i can't take it that i haven't kissed you jonbee-"

and then without a doubt, he looks at you again, his eyes so feverious, so full of emotion, burning with the exact same fire that you feel your body ablaze with.

just like that john b cups your jaw, and kisses you so sweetly you see stars.

[3000-200-grains-of-salt]

if there's one thing about jimmy solidarity its that he's the friend that always feels like he walks behind the main group on the sidewalk.

if there's one thing about jimmy solidarity its that he's gotten the short end of the stick and been the butt of the joke so many times he just expects it at this point.

if there's one thing about jimmy solidarity its that he craves love and affection and genuine positive attention and he craves it so much it's painful, and if there's one thing about him its that he can't ask for it ever no matter how much it hurts to be alone, can't ask can't satisfy that hungry thing inside him that begs to yell, to scream i'm here, i'm here, i'm not a joke, please look at me, please love me, please tell me i matter, please tell me you care, please, please, please.

if there's one thing about jimmy its that he makes himself the joke, the court jester, the punching bag, the receiving end of the slapstick comedy; its that he's always the one to slip on the banana peel, to fall on his face, to say oops silly me again, always the one to be picked on, always telling everybody to look at him, point at him, laugh at him, because if he closes his eyes and bites his tongue it almost feels like love.

and nobody notices the pain behind his smile because he's jimmy and jimmy's always positive and nobody sees him grit his teeth and steel his nerves from where he's faceplanted into the mud because he's jimmy and jimmy always gets back up again, and nobody sees past his reassurances that its fine im really ok because it's jimmy and jimmy's always doing good, and nobody ever stops laughing to remind him that they're joking because it's jimmy and jimmy doesn't mind.

if there's one thing about jimmy solidarity its that he'll say he doesn't want anything for his birthday, and he doesn't even expect anything for his birthday but he still counts on his fingers beneath the table how many people give him well wishes cause he's so so scared that the number will be less than last year and when he wakes up every year he can't help but hope that maybe his friends will see past his facade and say "hey i know you said not to get you a gift but here's a little something i got for you" and "why don't we grab a cake on the way home" and  even just a simple "happy birthday", and maybe he prays again and again to hear those words every year because if he listens hard enough he can almost hear i love you, i love you echoing through the syllables.

if there's one thing about jimmy solidarity it's that every time he falls (and he'll fall and fall and fall alright) he throws his eyes open wide as the ground rushes up to meet him because if he spreads his wings and reaches out his arms it almost feels like flying.

if there's one thing about jimmy solidarity its that he'll never ever stop fighting for his friends and he'll never ever stand in silence if somebody hurts them and that red in his eyes will never ever lessen til his friends are safe and if there's one thing about jimmy solidarity its that giving the same courtesy to himself makes him feel like throwing up so he just averts his eyes and knits his fists a bit tighter, because if he chokes back his tears and pushes down his hurt it almost feels like strength.

[do-it-for-the-fandom]

Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.

Part I: leaving the crime scene.

Part II: the phone call.

Part III: a visit to the morgue.

Part IV: the lunch break.

Part V: lunch part II.

Part VI: the perfect cover.

Part VII: the storage closet.

Part VIII: case closed.

Part IX: finding their way.

Must you always be so... so stubborn, Katie?

Apparently, the answer to the question her parent's had frustratedly asked her on many occasions was a big, fat yes.

It's not that she hadn't tried to be a little softer, a little less headstrong. She had decided - the moment she arrived home, alone... again - that she could forgive and forget this whole mess. Because, like Lanie had said (and like she already knew) Castle had only done what he thought was the right thing.

He had explained how they had ended up in his Loft rather than the fancy restaurant he had made reservations at. He had explained the alarming phone call, the shattering glass. And he had explained that no matter what he said or did, Kristina had been on a  mission to get exactly what she wanted.

If anything, he was the victim in all of this. Maybe, just maybe, it was her who owed him an apology. 

Then, as if timed by fate itself, there was a knock at her door. 

He came bearing a heartfelt apology, the intent to start and finish a true conversation about them (one they probably should have had before returning to work, but better late than never) and a promise. A promise that he understands, that is scared too, but that he truly believes they can find their way. 

And just like that, she was ready to forgive. 

She leant in, smile still bright on her face, and Castle dipped his head to brush his  lips against hers. However, it seemed forgiving was going to be much easier than forgetting. The images she had spent the better half of the night fighting off flooded back to the forefront of her mind and she pulled back from the impending we're good now kiss. 

"I'm sorry, I can't," she said as she shook her head slightly, hoping to erase the images like an etch-a-sketch. "It's too soon. I just keep seeing her boobs in your face." 

She walked away, just a few steps to gain a little bit of distance, a little bit of perspective. She just wanted her mind to stop taunting her like this. She wanted the memories to be gone, for good. 

And then came the softly spoken, heartbroken words that managed to do exactly that.

"Do y- do you want me to leave?" 

She turned to face him, took in the pained look of regret that was etched so deep in the tired lines of his face and shook her head.

"No," she said definitively, closing the space between them. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired."

And confused, and angry, and a little hurt; but mostly just tired.

She reached up and delicately traced her thumb over his cheek.

"Stay with me?" she whispered the request. "Please." 

He nodded, followed as she led him toward her bedroom. He removed his clothing, down to his boxers, as she pulled back the covers and climbed onto the bed. Kneeling, she moved over to his side and placed her hands on his hips. He joined her on the mattress, kneeling before her, and brushed the hair of her ponytail over her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispered and she nodded. 

"Me too." 

She leaned in, kissed him slowly. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting - the taste of betrayal, perhaps - but his lips, his tongue; it just tasted like him. Sweet, loyal, hopelessly in love Castle. And her reservations melted away.

Castle pressed his forehead to hers but cupped her face to keep her close; he didn't want to lose this connection, but he also didn't want her to feel rushed. 

"We don't have to," he assured her.

But she shook her head. "I want to." 

Still, he hesitated. She knew that was her fault: she had let her emotions lead her actions too much over these past few days. These past few weeks, actually. And now he was being overly cautious, taking on the role that she would usually fill. Because that was how they worked: serious and unserious, head in the clouds and feet firmly on the ground, a hopeless romantic and a logical thinker. They levelled each other other, brought one another to this ideal middle ground that just seemed to work so perfectly for them. 

But this? This role reversal they had slipped into, it wasn't them It wasn't right. 

"I'm okay, Castle." She assured him with a kiss. "We're okay." 

And she was determined for her words to become truth. 

She kissed him again, with more urgency than before, and he gave into his desires. 

His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, relished in the feel of her body pressed flush against his. 

"I want you," he panted as he moved his attention to peppering kisses along her jawline and down her neck. His hands wandered down her body to her thighs, then glided back up the bared skin and underneath her sleep shirt. "Only you." 

"Show me," she whispered. They broke apart, looked into one another's eyes for just a few short seconds before she smiled and repeated her request. "Show me how much you want me." 

He did exactly that. He poured all the love he had for her into a long, slow, reverent kiss as he lay her back on her bed. He touched her with gentle hands, like she were a priceless artifact to be handled with the utmost care. Kissed her in a way that soothed the hurt and confusion they had both felt in this tumultuous transition into life outside of their little love bubble. Their love-making was a promise that tomorrow was a new day - undoubtedly with new challenges to face - but no matter what may have come their way, they could figure this out together... they could find their way. 

And, in a way that only they could, they righted all their wrongs.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

He Suddenly Became a Plushie!?

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. This is a rush translation.

After finishing my work, I returned to Ieyasu's room.

Mai: "I'm back, Ieyasu. Huh?"

(I thought he'd be in his room by now.)

Ieyasu: "Hmm? Welcome back. Sorry, I must have fallen asleep without realizing."

Mai: "Huh? Where are you?"

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about? I'm right here."

Mai: "Huh?"

As I heard Ieyasu's voice, a plush toy resembling him appeared beside the writing desk.

(No, a stuffed toy can't just stand up and talk, right!?)

Mai: "Wait a minute, are you serious? Is that really you!?"

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about?"

Ieyasu: "Huh? Aren't you unusually tall today?"

Mai: "No, you're just small! I mean, you're a plushie!?"

Ieyasu: "Plushie? What's that?"

Ieyasu: "!?"

After moving his body, he noticed his own hands and finally grasped the situation.

Mai: "What happened while I was away?"

Ieyasu: "Even if you ask me, I have no idea. I was just writing a letter and suddenly got sleepy. Then, when I woke up..."

Mai: "You found yourself like this?"

Ieyasu: "I guess."

Mai: "Are you okay? Can I touch you?"

Ieyasu: “Go ahead.”

Mai: “Okay.”

Carefully, I place the small Ieyasu in the palm of my hand.

(What should I do? He’s so tiny.)

Ieyasu: “Hey, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Mai: “Ah!”

Ieyasu tapped the tip of my nose and moved his short arms.

(Is he trying to fold his arms? They’re too short for that, though.)

Ieyasu: “I don’t know why this happened, but I’ll find a way to return to normal.”

Ieyasu: “And you, don’t worry more than necessary. Just keep smiling, as usual. Got it?”

He said that and pointed one arm towards my face.

(He's trying to reassure me, even though it's harder for him.)

Mai: "Thank you. You're right. Being depressed won't solve anything."

Mai: "Thanks to your cuteness, I'm feeling a little better."

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about? Moving and talking dolls are creepy as hell."

(He's embarrassed.)

Mai: "That's not true. You're small and cute."

Ieyasu: "My bad. I guess the real me is huge and totally not cute."

Mai: "Your normal self is tall and handsome! I love your usual appearance, of course."

Mai: "So, can I help you look for a way to return to normal?"

Ieyasu: "You're still going to help, even if I say no anyway."

Ieyasu: "Do as you like."

I couldn't help but run my fingers over his cheek as he turned away.

Ieyasu: "Hey, what are you doing?"

Mai: "Hehe, you're just too fluffy and cute."

Ieyasu: "Stop grinning like that. I’ll remember this when I return to normal."

He turned away, sulking.

(Even as a plushie, he's still stubborn. Huh?)

Suddenly, a black stain on his back caught my attention.

I casually shifted my gaze and noticed a brush beneath the writing desk.

Mai: "Ieyasu, there's ink on your back!"

Ieyasu: "Really? It doesn't hurt or itch."

Mai: "Are you sure it's okay? Ink isn't poisonous, right?"

Ieyasu: "Calm down. It's just ink. I can just wash it off."

Mai: "Then let's wash it!"

Ieyasu: "Now?"

Mai: "I'm worried it'd stain your clothes. Just wait. I'll prepare everything quickly!"

Ieyasu: "Hey!"

Quickly preparing hot water and a basin, I lifted him with both hands.

Mai: "I prepared it in a hurry, but I hope it's okay to get you wet."

Ieyasu: "It should be fine. Worst-case scenario, you can just dry me off."

Mai: "Still, if we leave it, the stain will only get worse."

Ieyasu: "If you're going to dilly-dally, then don't wash it."

Mai: "I'll do it!"

With determination, I gently submerged Ieyasu in the warm water.

Mai: "Ieyasu, is it too hot? Are you okay with the pressure? Does it hurt?"

Ieyasu: "You're worrying too much. Just do it properly."

Mai: "But even you are careful when washing the Wasabi doll."

Ieyasu: "That was something you gave me, so I can't help it."

Mai: "Then I can't help it either. I'm washing something precious to me."

Ieyasu: "I see."

Ieyasu: "So, how long are you planning to keep washing me?"

Mai: "Well, it seems like the ink has soaked in more than it looks. Ah!"

The ink spread to his stomach, and I panicked.

Mai: "Wait, I'll get it off now!"

Ieyasu: "Ugh."

Mai: "Did it hurt?"

Ieyasu: "No. It just tickles."

Mai: "Sorry, I'll try to be gentler."

Ieyasu: "Hey, it's getting even more ticklish."

Mai: "But it's not coming off easily."

Ieyasu: "Guh!"

As I gently rubbed, he trembled more and more.

Ieyasu: "Hey, aren't you done yet?"

Mai: "Just a little more. Hang in there, Ieyasu!"

Ieyasu: "Even if you say that, I..."

The small Ieyasu started squirming in my hand, almost falling into the basin.

Mai: "Ieyasu, don't move!"

Ieyasu: "I can't take it anymore!"

The next moment, water splashed everywhere.

Ieyasu: "Huh?"

Mai: "----!"

(He's back to normal!)

Mai: "Maybe getting wet was the trick?"

Ieyasu: "Who knows? I'm just relieved to be back to normal."

Mai: "Wait, what about the ink stain?"

I quickly moved closer to check his back and stomach, but I couldn't find any.

Mai: "Great, it seems like everything's fine!"

Ieyasu: "Fine? Not quite."

Before I could react, the wet Ieyasu grabbed my waist and swiftly pushed me down.

Mai: "Um, Ieyasu?"

Ieyasu: "I told you several times it was ticklish, but you didn't listen."

Ieyasu: "Now it's payback time."

Mai: "Ah..."

He untied my obi, opened my kimono, and touched my bare skin.

Mai: "Wait, Ieyasu, you're soaking wet. You need to change."

Ieyasu: "I'll be taking it off anyway."

Mai: "Mm."

His rough hands caressed me, and he kissed me more passionately than usual. 

That night, we shared the warmth of our bodies until Ieyasu was completely satisfied.

Ikesen Masterlist

[unfortunately-obsessed]

I cringed the whole time Xavier was speaking. The whole thing irked me so much. Truly, he's the guy that will sacrifice anything for the "good results", even his allegedly best friend/brother's mind

Just felt so frustrating, like the sole reason Xavier even went to Asteroid M and wanted the Earth's damage fixed was exclusively so mutants could still be palatable to humans. "Shattering your mind is more important than stopping the prime sentinels," indeed. I'm still not over the fact Xavier would've doomed mutantkind as whole if wasn't for Scott momentarily preventing him from attacking Magneto

The whole coma/telepathic conversation segment felt straight out of a manipulation book.

I'll bring you back to when we first truly met forcing you into a vulnerable moment. "You've hurt me too," I'll say, and then I'll add like am magnanimous, "but that's okay. Only people we love can hurt us." I'll make sure to use both your trauma and your temporary amnesia to reinforce our relationship and myself as the one you can trust

And I can't say I'm surprised. Season 1 Episode four of TAS Xavier made Erik's relive his trauma instead of simply making him fainting

I don't see the whole interaction as unsalvageable. Especially the "There’s a power in seeing yourself in another, in resemblance" followed by the family is the one you choose, who is worth fighting for. And this – saving lives, saving who he cares for – was what made Magneto wake up (not Xavier's emotional manipulation)

His line were sweet, sugar-coated, just like they were with Rogue about Remy's death/the Genosha massacre, to the point where it is tone deaf, ignorant. He gives "some of you may die, luckily that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make" vibes

[2minutesnotice]

Give us headcannons please!! :)

HERE WE GOOOOO!

Polycule Headcanons

✨Stolitz/Fizzmodeus 🦎🦉🐸🐓✨

✨It was actually Blitzø who initiated it. As he started to connect with Fizz again he was sure he just had this childhood/teen crush thing and would get over it. Surprise, it wouldn't. It got worse. And since he was in a steady relationship with Stolas at this point and Fizz and Ozzie were definitely marriage material, it took some time to collect the courage to mention it.

✨Fizz was unsure if Ozzie would be okay with it, they had shared a bed with others but being in a relationship was a totally different thing. He also was not sure how to address the fact that maybe he has feelings for Blitzø? Like, he was pretty sure he had buried that very very deep.

✨ When they all sat together to discuss and reflect their relationships, they started with just putting down the facts. Since Blitzø started the whole thing, he made sure that he won't do anything unless Ozzie was in it AND Stolas. If anyone would be uncomfortable he had to get over his feelings and would try to make it as easy as possible for everyone .

✨ Stolas and Ozzie are not in love (yet). They're still in a dating phase, they pleasure each other, respect each other and they're fine with everything their imps bring on the table.

✨ Since dating 4 people is very very time consuming, Fizz made a schedule/calendar. It's not to be taken TOO seriously but they can put in their dating plans, when they're a No Touchy Day or they have to cancel plans because of work or just not being in the mood.

✨ They don't life together (yet). Blitzø moved into the palace but still has his apartment he sometimes goes back to. Loona moved out (on good terms) a while ago. Blitzø still sleeps on the couch when he's in his apartment, since he can't get over himself to move into Loonas old room.

Stolas is still at the palace but plans to move into a smaller mansion (with a garden and greenhouse). His divorce went through, Via is fighting to live with him since she had a very serious conversation with her therapist how to spot a toxic parent 🙃

Fizz and Ozzie still are in the Lust Ring and don't plan to move anytime soon.

✨ In this version of mine, Fizz is a Trans!Man. He prefers to call himself a man and identifies as such, but has his fluid days sometimes.

✨ Fizz has No Touchy Days, where he's very easily overstimulated by body contact. He is okay with reaching out himself but does not like to be touched.

✨ They use the ample system for consent and boundaries. Before every session they will ask for the color of their partner. It seems a bit excessive but if you have 4 people in an intimate relationship, communication is the key.

✨ Everyone is on the same terms for

GREEN: I'm good, you can touch me in any way, but I can change my mind.

YELLOW: I'm not in the mood, I don't want to start something yet, I'm okay with just being close but please don't start something sexual until I initiate it.

We need to slow down, I'm hurting but it's not that bad yet, I have something to say (yes even in the middle of it).

RED: It's a clear stop. No touching, keep your distance. Something doesn't feels right.

They also have a clear finger sign system if someone is gagged.

✨ Full Moon Dates are Blitzø and Stolas dates. They don't have sex then, they just date and chill, to put something domestic and nice into that date.

✨ So far, their Polycule is only known by close family members and friends. The media does not know. Stolas wants grass to grow over the divorce (Stella made a media spectacle out of it) and Fizz and Ozzie are still in pending what the consequences of their relationship is.

✨ Blitzø and Ozzie have a weirdly close relationship and maybe a few shared kinks lol

💖 I've tried to put it all together but I guess there's more lol I'm just taking a bath and tried to remember the early ideas 💖

Feel free to ask more 💖

[satureja13]

Ji Ho is back from his first Therapy Game session and couldn't be happier! And Saiwa is relieved they have him back in one piece. He was so worried and felt so bad Ji Ho, their most fragile, had to have his therapy before him, their oldest and leader. Ji Ho: "Don't worry. It was amazing! Tiny Can did an amazing job, you really should try." Saiwa drew in a deep breath: "Ok, I will go next then."

They went over to the living room their office. There are a few things to consider. First that their avatars obviously have a life of their own when they are not logged in. Jack saw Ji Ho as NPC Princess watching his fight at the Arena. So it's possible that they have encounters and experiences they aren't aware of because they are not logged in. Best they prepare to act unsuspicious when they are confronted with their avatar's actions ingame. And then Ji Ho had to tell them that it's the best for all of them when they don't share everything that happens ingame. So the therapy of the others doesn't get spoiled/contaminated. (Jack and the Queen, for example. It's probably better for him he doesn't know that the Queen and Greg are together ingame too. The Queen wanted it to be a secret anyway and maybe it's an important experience for Jack to try to woo the Queen.) But he also talked about his positive experiences and everything that was safe to mention. And they all agreed to make it a habit to take their time to follow their hobbies at least once a week.

Mood at dinner was subdued. Seems they don't take these news well. Jack wanted to know everything about his Queen and Vlad thinks Ji Ho and Caleb did ineffable things together and Ji Ho keeps it from him because he doesn't want to hurt him...

After dinner, Jack and Ji Ho went to the beach to relieve Jack's pain and Saiwa soaked Vlad in the hot tub to relieve his stress.

But Vlad was inconsolable. He knows it's just a game and that it's necessary for Ji Ho's healing and that they finally can be together when this is over and Ji Ho found his buried feelings. Saiwa: "Vlad, I know it's hard but try to hang on. Just for a little longer, hm? It will be worth it in the end. Don't let Ji Ho see you like this. He might stop his therapy and that would be a loss for all of us. We can already see the silver lining on the horizon."

Vlad: "Fine! I already went through hell and back for him. I can do this!" Saiwa: "That's my boy."

Nothing is easy in this world - or the others... But at least they are very beautiful worlds.

Jack: "Ah I can't wait to go back ingame. I miss Lou. And the Queen! Oh, have to make a plan what to say when I see her again! It's so amazing that I can be a totally other me ingame. I'm not damaged there, I'm a highly regarded fighter. And she doesn't know me as an abandoned pup. I'm a grown, strong, handsome wolf. I think I really stand a chance with her!" Poor Ji Ho! This is harder than he expected ö.Ö'

He tries to change the subject and told Jack that he really thinks this therapy game could be a great step forward for all of them. And no matter what happens ingame with Caleb, he's glad that Vlad encouraged him to go for it so he can heal. And how happy he is that he has the Bond with Vlad. No matter what happens, the Bond will keep them together. And how that gives him the strength to keep on going.

They talked about how different their experiences with a fated/bonded relationship are. Ji Ho feels secure to be bonded to Vlad even though they barely talk to each other or spend time together. And even though Ji Ho is not able to love Vlad yet. He never felt stability in his whole life and he cherishes Vlad's constant presence and love over the Bond. Whereas Jack never felt his fated bond between Kiyoshi and him. He is still highly attracted to him (and he hates himself for his weakness!) and he did love Kiyoshi a lot. But that bolt in the chest that should have hit him - nope - never happened. Jack: "Well that's over now. Kiyoshi became a diety and I don't think dieties have fated mates. And I don't want to relive this madness ever again. I'm glad I'm finally crawling out of this bottomless pit."

Then it was time for Vlad to go back home to care for Jeb and Kiyoshi. And to charge the Bond... Vlad: "Jack, wait..." Vlad can't be alone with Ji Ho right now. Not when when he's so upset. Jack sighed. It's about time for their next date, so they can get more comfortable around each other.

Vlad is having a hard time charging the Bond and letting Ji Ho touch him. Who knows what he did with Caleb. And even tough Saiwa told him to not bother Ji Ho with his jealousy, he just couldn't help it... Last Winter Solstice, Ji Ho even agreed to bond with Caleb! Well, he did not really have a choice because Vlad had been lost with Jeb in the Otherworld and wasn't able to protect Ji Ho, but Vlad knows how crazy they all are about Caleb! Omg Vlad!

Saiwa: "They are driving me crazy." Jack: "Well, we all act stupid at times, don't we?" Saiwa sighed: "I guess that's what we do... Oh my, I can't wait to see what Tiny Can has planned for me. Let's hope it helps. It's about time we go back home." Jack: "It will help. Look how well Ji Ho and I already do."

And eventually Ji Ho calmed Vlad through the Bond so they could charge... Vlad feels so stupid and he tries to apologize over the Bond and to reassure Ji Ho that he really means it when he told him that he will endure everything so Ji Ho can heal. And Ji Ho hugged him a bit tighter. He already knows that. We will overcome this too, the Bond said.

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[flowergirlzz]

Hello I'm here with an idea. I frequently have panic attacks and thought. What if you make a Simon or Roach x anxiety or panic attack reader fluff comfort.

you slam the door shut behind you the second you step into the warm house, a heavy exhale leaving your mouth as a reminder that you can relax now, you're home.

a stressful week had triggered your recurring anxiety. something you had never really been able to completely get rid off. it crept up when you least expected it with thoughts that seemed to be nearly impossible to ignore, almost mimicking cells in the way it appeared so natural that the thoughts automatically duplicated and spread all over, tricking both your brain and your body into thinking that something is wrong. the underlying feeling of nervousness, fear and a bunch of "what ifs" taking over your mind and pushing every rational thought aside.

you had managed to ignore the anxiety that had piled on and on throughout the week, telling yourself that you had no other choice but to suck it up and live with it even though there was nothing you wanted to do more than to lay down in bed and sleep for a month or two, solely to get a break from the negative thoughts, racing heart and clenching jaw.

the anxiety rarely stopped all by itself and instead built up and became more prominent, harder to contain. especially when you suppressed it instead of giving it an outlet, which you had not done in a while is what you recall as you kick your shoes off and head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water to hopefully calm yourself down a bit.

your heart only increases and your breath starts hitching as you stand in the too quiet kitchen, alone. all alone. which is the last thing you need right now, and you know it. so you do the only thing you can think of and pull your phone out of your pocket with now trembling hands. dialing. ringing. not even two seconds go by before he picks up.

"hey love I was jus-"

"can you come over?" you interrupt simon before he gets to finish his sentence. your eyes now filling with tears that threaten to spill.

simon immediately hears the panic in your voice, knows you too well to be able to miss it.

"what's wrong? did something happen?" his own voice switching from relaxed to serious and concerned.

"I can't calm myself down" you continue in between quick small breaths, going from 0 to 100 real quick.

"I'll be there in 5, stay on the phone with me"

-

when simon enters the house exactly five minutes later he immediately scans anything and everything his sight reaches, his instincts kicking in, before making his way to your bedroom with definite steps.

upon slowly opening the door to your bedroom he finds you lying curled up in a ball on the bed, back facing him and sobs escaping your mouth. there were few things in life that simon hated more than seeing you upset and if he could he would take all the pain you had ever felt away from you. in a heartbeat.

you feel the bed dip with his heavy weight as he scoots his way over to embrace your distressed form in his arms.

"I've got you love, it'll be alright" he whispers into your hair with closed eyes almost as if it hurt him seeing you hurt. his arms only bringing you closer to him like a silent promise of "you're not alone", "I'm here". you could feel simons steady breathing going up and down his chest on your back and his hands gently caressing your skin. his calm demeanor a big contrast to your own anguished one.

"I'm sorry" you manage to get out between sobs, guilt making its way to your already packed mind. an old habit of yours that you knew was unnecessary. you weren't bothering simon. in fact he wanted nothing but to help you and you knew this, had been through this with him many times before. you had learned to accept his help, to let him in instead of shutting him out, to talk about what you were feeling or going through.

"none of that" simon responds, his voice still just a whisper.

"try matching my breathing"

and you do. although not being able to completely relax or let go of the thoughts spiraling in your mind, you try matching your breathing to his, focusing on the way he holds you in his warm embrace, making you feel safer than you did anywhere else in this world, knowing that they would always do so. keep you safe

"that's it love" simon says when he feels your breath start to calm down and your sobs turn into quiet crying.

maybe you would want to talk about what you were feeling.

maybe you would just want to fall asleep in simons comforting presence.

whatever it was and however long it took to get there, he would still be there holding you, whispering reassuring words into your ear and making you feel seen, heard.

"I'm here"

[the-starry-seas]

fox has a panic attack during a thunderstorm, and bail and breha are there to comfort him

Fox tears awake with a scream, his back arching off the bed, fingers digging into the mattress, his back burning. Thunder still growls and grumbles overhead. He doubts they heard him.

Something moves suddenly at his side and he moves on instinct, rolling away, presenting his back to the thing and curling around the vulnerable parts of himself. His hands cover the back of his head, a feeble effort, but the only thing he can do. If they hit him there too many more times, the medics won't be able to do anything about the damage.

"What's the matter?" murmurs a soft voice.

His gaze meet Breha's in the hazy soft light of the moon. She looks half-asleep still, squinting against the light coming in through the window, no idea what's going on.

Kark, when something happens, she won't be awake enough to protect herself.

Lightning flashes and he flinches, a full-body shudder violent enough that the mattress trembles with him as a sob escapes his lips.

Breha sits up, turns away, fumbles with the lamp on the bedside table. It clicks on and casts a warm golden glow across the blankets.

"Oh, Fox."

She sounds so dismayed, and he curls tighter around himself.

"I'm sorry," he gasps out, not knowing what he's apologising for, only that it often makes the pain stop sooner. "I'm sorry, I'll be better-"

"Bail," she says instead. "Bail!" There's a rustle behind Fox. "Where did we put Fox's emergency medication?"

"Kriff, it's in his bag," Bail says, and there's a tug at the blankets over Fox's leg as Bail gets up in a hurry, rushing out to the foyer and barely stopping long enough to turn the light on.

Something crashes to the floor outside and Fox flinches again, begging anyone listening that it wasn't a shiny who did that. He can't protect them, not when he's broken like this. They're going to be punished, they're going to be hurt, and it's all because he's a failure, he's useless, he never should have let himself think otherwise-

Bail sits down on the bed next to her, where the light is, face gilded and grieving. The small plastic pouch in his hand is already open, the sensor inside blinking a slow orange.

"Fox, I need to touch the back of your neck," he says.

"No, Senator, please," Fox begs, already sick to his stomach with the knowledge that no begging will save him. It's not Bail, in that moment, it's just a faceless thing that grabs and pushes, and spares nothing in its quest to conquer him.

Bail sighs quietly, looking down at his lap. "You're going to have to move your hands."

Fox doesn't want to move his hands, but soldiers follow orders. He tucks them to his chest, every line of his body tensed in anticipation of another blow.

He whines deep in his throat when Bail leans over him, an instinctive reaction to terror that he can't hold back. It's Bail who flinches then, but his hand is cool and gentle on Fox's skin.

"I know," Bail whispers. "I'm sorry. Does it hurt?"

Lightning flashes again, and Fox is paralysed with fear. He chokes on nothing, gasping for breath, drowning on dry land, and worst of all, he hates himself for the look on Bail's face. Like Bail is watching something horrible happen to someone he loves.

It must be too much to bear, because Bail gets up. There's the sound of the curtains closing, but with the lamp there - with Breha there - the room doesn't seem much darker. Music starts from somewhere, the waltz that they first taught him to dance. It doesn't do anything to hide the thunder, but it's not the thunder that ever hurt him.

The medication in the patch works quickly, the sensor's colour changing to green as Fox's vital signs even out to normal.

"How do you feel?" Breha asks quietly.

He uncurls himself slowly, stiff with tension. There's a part of his brain that turns off in all the terror. That knows that with the patch, it could only have been ten minutes at the most, before calm returned.

It still felt like a thousand years.

He sits up slowly, fingers splayed across the mattress. The patches always make him feel a little dizzy - Bail and Breha will insist that he doesn't get up for another few minutes - but that's no price to pay. Without the patches, that would have lasted for hours.

"Thank you," he whispers, and with gratitude comes shame. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I didn't mean to bother you."

"Fox Organa, I love you."

He's seen her in a professional capacity so many times, but for the rest of his life, Breha will never look more like a queen than she does then, in nothing but his shirt going down to her knees, her hair loose and messy around her face, her voice softer than silk and warmer than summer sun.

"I love you," she repeats, "and you will never be a burden to me."

"Or to me," Bail adds. He sets a hand on her shoulder, and she sets her own on top of it. His other hand, he holds out to Fox.

Fox clings to them instead, trying to lose what remains of him in the smell of Breha's hand lotion and Bail's shampoo. They say nothing until he turns his face to kiss Breha's cheek, then stands, unsteady on his feet, to lean into Bail and kiss him, too.

He sits back down and lets out a breath, reminding himself that he's safe here. Palpatine died years ago. Breha wrote clone rights into the planet's laws not long after. Bail oversaw the construction of this place. The lightning will never again touch his skin. Never, ever again.

"I'm better," he says finally. "Thank you." To prove it, he doesn't wait for them to ask. "I want to go back to bed with both of you here. I want you to touch the flowers."

They lay on either side of him, their breathing still a little more even than his. Breha leaves the lamp on. He's grateful for that. Their hands are gentle on his back.

Not the scars, he reminds himself, tucking his face into the oversized pillow that's somehow even softer than his sleep shirt. Not the scars. The flowers.

The palace medics had promised that the scars could be wiped away like they never existed. He'd thought about it, once. But those injuries had healed. The ones in his mind...

Foxgloves, Breha said, when he asked about the flowers almost as tall as he was, planted around the palace. He asked what they meant. Bail said that sometimes flowers don't have a meaning, they're just beautiful.

He had a foxglove tattooed along the length of his spine, over the scars from the lightning. To remind himself that sometimes things could be beautiful. To convince himself that when they look at his back, they're not looking at his scars.

Sometimes, when the bathroom mirror is fogged from the steam of a long shower, he can't see the scars in his reflection. He only sees the gentle lines of the blooms.

They'll fall asleep before he will. He won't mind staying awake to watch over them.

"I love you," he whispers.

They say it back in unison. He smiles a little at that. No matter what they do, they're always so sure of themselves. And when they saw him, when they wanted him, when they cherished him, they were so sure of that, too. It's the only thing he ever had any faith in.

As it turns out, they stay awake to watch over him, and they don't mind.

[wrestlezaynia]

"Broken Promises."

Promises are made to be broken.

Must be 18+ to read under cut.

It started off innocent at first. Just two best friends exploring their sexuality, no strings attached. "You have to promise you won't fall in love with me." Kevin quips, a smug smirk gracing his lips. Sami didn't know it back then, but he was terrible at keeping promises.

Kevin took Sami's virginity, he was reluctant but Sami insisted. He wanted his first time to be with someone he could trust and there wasn't anyone he trusted more than Kevin. Their friendship was unaffected, however, Sami felt something that night. Something real, something he never experienced before...it was love. He loved Kevin.

Sami kept it a secret for so long, but Kevin could tell he was behaving differently towards him. He noticed him sighing more when they were together, the way Sami looked at him changed too. He was acting like a completely different person. He debated questioning Sami about his behavior, but quickly dismisses it, remembering the oath they took.

Right on cue, Kevin's arms engulf Sami from behind. His soft lips brush against his neck, making the hairs stand up. "God I missed you, Sami." He whispers, his breath hot against his ear. "Did you miss me?"

Sami wants to tell Kevin he misses every second they aren't together, that being away from him even for a minute feels like an eternity, but instead settles on nodding. His body starting to relax in Kevin's warm embrace, wishing he would hold him like this forever and never let go.

"I've been horny all day, fantasizing about what I'm going to do to you." Kevin breathes, slipping his hands beneath Sami's shirt to caress his muscular chest with his fingertips. "I want you so bad, it hurts."

"I want you too, Kev." Sami murmurs breathlessly. But, unlike Kevin, he didn't mean sexually. He wanted him mind, body and soul. A keen spilling from his lips as Kevin's hand ventures lower, fingers skimming over the bulge protruding from his pants.

Feeling how hard Sami is for him makes his own dick throb as he spins Sami around to face him. Their eyes connecting briefly before Kevin smashes his lips against Sami's with fervor, cradling his face.

Sami returns the kiss, hooking his arms around Kevin's neck to bring him closer, their bodies pressed together. "Kev," he whispers against his lips, building up the courage to tell him how he feels, but when Kevin looks at him his tongue goes numb and he forgets how to speak.

Hearing Sami whisper his name sends shivers up Kevin's spine as they kiss their way towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way. Both men down to their boxers as they tumble onto the mattress, lips still attached. Hands roaming over every inch as Kevin kisses Sami's neck.

Before things escalate any further, Sami needs to get this off his chest. He can't keep living a lie, it's eating him up inside. "Kev." He manages to choke out, amidst the heat of pleasure. "Kevin, stop!" His voice rising in volume as he musters the strength to push Kevin off of him, the warmth of his body still lingers. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

Kevin looks at Sami, hurt and confusion in his eyes. "What's wrong?" He asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Sami's own lips.

Sami averts his gaze, the pain etched across Kevin's face too much to bear. "I can't keep pretending you don't mean anything to me." He confesses softly, struggling to compose himself.

Expressing emotion isn't exactly Kevin's strong suit, but Sami is his soft spot so when Sami's hurting, he's hurting. Kevin knew he had to approach this delicately as the tears well in Sami's eyes. "Sami, look at me." He coaxes, cupping Sami's chin gently and forcing him to make eye contact. "Whatever it is, we'll get through this." He reassures him.

Sami leans into Kevin's touch, gazing deeply into the familiar silver blue. They're so beautiful, he could stare into them forever as he releases the breath he has been holding. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long." His voice wavers, on the verge of tears. "That night you showed me a side of you I've never seen before and I-"

"Say it, Sami." Kevin breathes, his heart pounding in his chest.

Sami's breathing becomes more labored, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to find the words. "I'm in love with you, Kev." He whispers softly, the tears he fought to suppress now trickling down his cheeks as a wave of relief washes over him. "I'm sorry Kevin, I know we made a promise not to develop feelings for each other, but-"

Sensing the panic in Sami's tone, Kevin captures the redheads lips in a tender kiss, one that is sure to stifle his aimless rambling momentarily. Their lips part, but they remain close, foreheads touching. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" Kevin asks, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world." He softly adds, tucking Sami's hair behind his ear. "Je suis amoureux de toi, Sami."

[sysig]

Requestober ask- I love that we got to see last year what costumes you imagined for Edgar and Scri as kids. What do you think they'd be for Halloween as adults? I kind of imagine Scriabin as some kind of vampire or illusionist magician, or something similarly dramatic/elegant/mysterious~ For Edgar, though, I'm not sure. Sheet ghost? Lol. I can only think of lady!Edgar costumes, like her being a princess or smth. I feel like it wouldn't be anything too over the top, either way. Thoughts?

Day 8 - Buggy

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Opinions on Dream? :^

SO many feelings about him omgg rant under cut please forgive me

okay so i don't really talk or draw him much cause honestly,,,most of the times i just think he's a bit....boring? or more accurately plain? not in a mean way either but just in a 'fades into the background' type of way like don't get me wrong!! he's a really nice friend to his peers, his feelings about his powers and aura making his relationships harder to navigate and trust along with his whole conflict with nightmare and morality about what's good and bad IS very cool!! and i love it whenever they write him to be complex and not on this black and white mentality or when he's just straight up following along his friends with no free will or with a dubious purpose without ever addressing his issues or feelings! it's just unsatisfying to me :')

or when they're making him the 'naive' and oblivious, (sometimes childish?) character being marked as the obstacle and villain along with the other star sanses from the fic's pov, always talking about doing good things while fighting his brother and not hearing him out about the balance, (and for weak reasons most of the time. like it's been so long and you STILL haven't sat down with him when he's, generally, basically begged you to just have a talk? guys please :'( ) or when they go for the victim sad dream always missing the old nightmare, where corrupted nightmare is the incarnation of evil, with no sympathy or emotion except anger and sadistic glee, killing and hurting everyone and dream's just trying to protect the multiverse and dream's always been in the right. such extremes!!!

LIKE!! i hope i'm not the only one that thinks a 500+ year old should have had enough time to idk. learn things? about people and manipulation and deceit? after knowing what the villagers did to night? about the bad things in the world and how there's a lot of grey areas in life and that he maybe reflected on his past enough to process and ask himself if there should to be a convo to settle his differences with nightmare (and you can make nightmare the stubborn one too! or have them BOTH be petty and imperfect and have some things wrong and some right at the same time like why do i always see the good guy vs bad guy cliché with these two when they're the perfect example of why positivity doesn't have meaning without the negativity!! as long as there's a satisfying evolution or growth that doesn't leave me empty i'm good yknow?)

plus i believe dream really isn't as dumb as people view him. i do get some of you saying he probably can't read or write since that's actually a pretty interesting idea to explore! but in general please let him have emotions other than pure sunshiny happiness or endless sadness like he's gotta have more depth than that! let him make mistakes, have flaws that don't just make him the bad guy that's always in the wrong by default, and be angry or suspicious or jealous or bitter or battling his mental health problems/depression or malicious or smart or witty or mischievous and silly or sarcastic or ANYTHING dude i just want him to be put into different scenarios where he can be serious or lighthearted like it doesn't even have to be long or perfect but make him feel real.

it could definitely be that i don't read or see much art about dream or really look for it hard enough but also i just. i feel bad for even saying this fr and i wanna be honest about why i don't enjoy most stories about him cause he always gets the worst treatment along with ink!!! especially ink omg the poor guy has it the worst i think like wow do they mess him up :'(

always one dimensional in non shippy fics, or too plain or easily replaceable by other, more entertaining people in the significant other's life in most of his ships like man. i have read fics out there that made me genuinely FEEL and root for him and love his character so much it restored all hope for me!!! but i can only name one on top of my head and the others? it's been so long i don't even remember their names i just legit feel terrible cause i love him still and i can't find many headcanons that fit my interpretation of him yknow?

not to say people who write him very happy, mislead or sad are ruining him like that's silly- if i see something i don't like i just. move on bro i wouldn't force people to feel or think the same way i do about him cause anyone can have whatever headcanons they want!!! just talking about what i personally look for in him and why i can't exactly find it since most of the stuff out there just isn't my cup of tea :')

hopefully i didn't set anyone off with this rambling opinionated essay i just pulled hhh xD i know i know he's a popular character and i know a lot of people like dream so *sobs* please please recommend me artists and fics about him that you think is good it's been so looong since i've read or seen anything new that makes me attached to this little guy aughg<33333

[glindyupland]

I just think it’s silly that so many people complain about Villain Amaya as “wasted potential” and that “we were robbed” like-

My pals, post canon fan fiction is right there. The desire to free her husband is right there. Either by touching an evil book while being too eager to remember the obsidian oil, or being possessed by contact (ie what she believes is true loves kiss) when trying to reason with him in the dungeon.

We don’t need a rewrite, we can have a continuation. Both can be true. Amaya is a complex character, she can handle it.

[candlebel]

I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.